Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fruit Punch
by Autumnstar17
Summary: Harry's 4th year at Hogwarts with a questionably sane director; written as a continuation to Darth Maligna's first two Harry Potter fanfics in easy-to-read script format.


**Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fruit Punch**

Redirected by Emily Claus

**PLEASE NOTE: These scripts are written as a continuation of Darth Maligna's first two. So don't kill me if the ideas aren't 100% original.**

EMILY'S LAWYER: Before we begin, I would like to announce the fact that this is a parody. If you'd prefer to see every exact detail, please just read the friggin' book already. Or watch the movie, which this is based off of more, due to the fact that it takes much less time. Also, Emily would like me to add here that it's not because she's lazy. Finally, I must cover copyright issues: if you think Emily owns Harry Potter or anything about it, you've got to be absolutely insane. JKR owns it, so screw you. Thank you.

EMILY: Hello, and welcome to my redirecting of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fruit Punch, named after the fruity and sugar-filled drink of goodness I'm craving right now! Any questions?

AUDIENCE: Yeah. Why are we still here?

EMILY: *shrugs* Beats me, but it sounds like a personal problem. In any case – start the movie!

AUDIENCE: *look at Emily with raised eyebrows*

We start the film in some creepy old janitor-looking guy's house. I'm guessing he's a muggle, but being a director, what do I know? In any case: he is cooking something. Let's say he's boiling water to make some spaghetti. And he's… burning it.

AUDIENCE: Is that so?

EMILY: Yesh. Yesh it is, and you know it.

AUDIENCE: …Right.

The creepy old janitor-looking guy looks up from burning his water on the stove to see a light in some creepy old building-looking structure thing.

CREEPY OLD JANITOR-LOOKING GUY: Damn those kids!

He gets up to investigate. Once inside the building, he walks up the stairs. The music grows eerie, and the way he's walking… Well, let's just say he's being a little melodramatic. You're classic 'horror movie I'm-gonna-turn-this-corner-oh-so-slowly-and-look-over-my-shoulder-with-my-frightened-face to make this scene much more spooky and engaging' kind of thing.

EMILY: Haha, that's a mouthful.

AUDIENCE: And the sad part? You're absolutely right about it.

EMILY: Yes, I do tend to be on occasion.

The creepy old janitor-looking guy gets to the top of the stairs and sees Barty Crouch Jr. (but you're not supposed to know it's him yet, of course), Wormtail, and Voldemort in the form of an extremely ugly baby.

EMILY: What? He does look like that!

AUDIENCE: We're not disagreeing with you.

EMILY: Why not?

AUDIENCE: Because it's true.

EMILY: …Alright, you guys are starting to scare me. When comes the part where you start yelling and complaining about how I ruined the movie?

AUDIENCE: *shrugs* What makes you expect it?

EMILY: *suspicious face*

AUDIENCE: *coolly* It's all part of the plan.

EMILY: Ah-hah! I knew it!

AUDIENCE: Will that be all?

EMILY: Uh… *worried expression* I suppose so. For now. Um… uh… Moving on!

CREEPY OLD JANITOR-LOOKING GUY: I'm sorry, I seem a little lost. What was that all about?

EMILY: None of your business. Moving on!

The creepy old janitor-looking guy looks puzzled, but neither the director nor audience choose to fill him in A because he's a muggle, B because he's about to die in this scene.

CREEPY OLD JANITOR-LOOKING GUY: Say what?

NAGINI: *slithers in and whispers something in Parseltongue*

VOLDEMORT: Ah! I see we have a visitor, the groundskeeper. Why don't we give out guest a proper greeting, Wormtail? _Avada Kedavra!_

CREEPY OLD JANITOR-LOOKING GUY: *dies in a cloud of green light*

VOLDEMORT: Hahaha! Did you see that, Wormtail? I was all like, 'Avada Kedavra', and he was, like, dead! Gosh, I can't wait to see if he had a wife! She'd be all like, 'What the hell was that for?', and then I could reply, 'Bitch. I'm Lord. Freaking. Voldemort!' And then of course I'd kill her too, but that's beside the point.

WORMTAIL: …Fascinating, Master.

VOLDEMORT: Ooh, Barty! Could you please hand me my Wizarding BananaPhone? I need to inform Severus about my totally awesome evil brilliant plan!

BARTY: What plan?

VOLDEMORT: The one I just told you, you idiot! Now get me the phone, hurry!

WORMTAIL: But, uh, Master… You can't hold a phone in your condition.

VOLDEMORT: I can't? Well, shit. That means I can't make any prank calls either. Alright, Wormtail – you get the phone and call Severus for me. No, wait – scratch that. Call a pizza place!

WORMTAIL: Um, Master… Why pizza?

VOLDEMORT: Because I love pizza. Where have you been for the last thirteen years?

WORMTAIL: In disguise as Ron's rat, Master.

VOLDEMORT: Oh, right. I forgot. Barty, where is the damn phone?

BARTY: Here, Master! *holds out the phone*

WORMTAIL: *grabs the phone and dials a number* Hello, I would like to order a large pizza for a Mr. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Yes, that'll be all right. *looks up at Voldemort* What toppings, Master?

JULIA: Hawaiian! Hawaiian! Order Hawaiian!

VOLDEMORT: Uh, let's go with… Half sausage, half pepperoni, okay? And... Uh... Could somebody get her outta here?

BARTY: Wonderful choice!

WORMTAIL: Alright, half sausage, half pepperoni. *pause* Uh, we're in this creepy old building-looking structure thing. You know what I'm referring to? Alright, good. *nods* Okay, okay. *looks up again* Where should I have them send the bill, Master?

VOLDEMORT: *thinks* Uh… Oh, I know! Let's have them charge it to Mr. Harry Potter. I hate him.

WORMTAIL: *nods* Okay, charge it to a Mr. Harry Potter. Thank you. *hangs up* It'll be here in half an hour.

VOLDEMORT: Half an hour? Damn! I don't have that kind of patience! Well, I'll just kill the delivery guy when he gets here. That ought to make up for it.

EMILY: Alright, I'd love to stay in this scene, but we have protagonists to worry about, unfortunately.

AUDIENCE: Thank goodness! What was all that, anyway? You're a disgrace to directors everywhere.

EMILY: Ah, that's the spirit! You guys were starting to worry me for a minute back there.

AUDIENCE: *shuffling around to see if the escape plan still exists*

EMILY: Haha, don't bother! I threw it away. *evil grin* Of course, you could try recreating it if you'd like.

AUDIENCE: Yes, we think we'd like to do that.

EMILY: *shrugs* Alrighty. As long as it keeps you occupied, I suppose.

Cut to Ron's room! Or at least I think it's his room. I can't be sure, but it certainly doesn't look like a bathroom… and it's upstairs. In which case it may be Fred and George's, but I suspect they'd be there if it was. Or Ginny's, perhaps…

EMILY: *pondering an explanation*  
AUDIENCE: *waiting patiently*

EMILY: *holds up finger like she has the answer*

AUDIENCE: *getting excited*

EMILY: *drops back into pondering state with a serious expression*

AUDIENCE: *grumble something amongst themselves*

EMILY: Alright, I give up. Moving right along!

AUDIENCE: *once more, sighs of relief*

So they're possibly in Ron's room, but we can't be too sure. Hermione jumps on top of Harry's bed (with Harry in it, to his horror), holding out a receipt and yelling something.

HARRY: *puts on his glasses* What is it, Hermione?  
HERMIONE: What is it? WHAT IS IT? What is this, Harry?

HARRY: A, uh… receipt?

HERMIONE: Did you order pizza for a Mr. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?

HARRY: No, of course not!

HERMIONE: Well, somebody did, and it was charged under YOUR name!

HARRY: Maybe Ron did it as a prank?

Hermione considers this accusation, decides she likes it, and then turns to jump on top of Ron's bed.

RON: Bloody hell!

HERMIONE: Ron, did you order a large pepperoni and sausage pizza and put it under Harry's name?

RON: No! Why would I ever do that?

HERMIONE: *glares* We're not finished, you two. I will get to the bottom of this! Oh, and Mrs. Weasley told me to tell you guys we're going to be late if you're not ready in half an hour.

HARRY: Half an hour? That's not too bad.

HERMIONE: That was over fifteen minutes ago. Now get up, the both of you, and mark my words! I WILL find out who ordered that pizza!

RON: Oh, okay. *getting up* And, uh, when you do find out who it was, could you please ask them why we didn't get any?

HERMIONE: *walks away fuming*

Somewhere else, possibly a forest or a hiking trail

AMOS: Ah, Arthur! *embraces him in a hug* You finally made it!

ARTHUR: Yes, well, some of us had a rough time getting up.

HERMIONE: And some of us ordered pizza without telling anyone!

RON: *rolls eyes* Neither of us ordered pizza, Hermione.

Edward Cullen – I mean, uh, Cedric Diggory – jumps out of tree next to his dad.

EMILY: Hm. So he was climbing trees even before he was a vampire?

AUDIENCE: *glares at Emily* Those movies have absolutely nothing to do with each other.

EMILY: Hey, same actor! Just that nobody cares about him in this film. Well, until they see the other one or read the books, then all of a sudden they pretend they cared the whole time!  
AUDIENCE: Actually, you're right. It's quite pathetic, really.

RON: Hey, are we talking about a specific teen vampire romance novel?

EMILY: Absolutely not, Ron. Why would you think that?

AMOS: *changing the subject* Did somebody say pizza?

RON: Oh, I did! *whispers to Hermione* How did he know?

CEDRIC: *turns to whisper something to his dad with a surprised look* Wow, this director person knows even more about me than I do!

AMOS: She's lying, Cedric; don't listen to her. You aren't a vampire.

CEDRIC: But maybe she's right? Maybe by the end of this film I'll BE a vampire?

AMOS: That's absolutely ridiculous, Son! Don't say things like that.

HARRY: *staring at Cedric* Hey, I know you! You're the Hufflepuff seeker who fell off his broom while the Gryffindor played you guys rather than the Slytherin team for the first and probably only time!

CEDRIC: *embarrassed* Uh, yeah… That was me.

HARRY: *smiling* Good times, good times. Both seekers blacked out in one game; that's gotta be a first!

HERMIONE: *still glaring at the receipt* And you're actually proud of that?

ARTHUR: Speaking of Quidditch, we ought to hurry if we want there to be any seats left.

GINNY: But I thought we reserved the seats?  
ARTHUR: *thinks about this* Oh yeah, we did. Anyway, let's go!

The Weasleys, Diggorys, and Hermione and Harry eventually all get to the top of a grassy hill with a single golden ring lying on it.

HARRY: Is it just me, or does this thing keep showing up? Like, everywhere?

RON: Hey, isn't that my ring from the Chamber of Secrets?

HARRY: Yeah, we ran into it again in the Shrieking Shack.

HERMIONE: It must be the director's reference to another plot that has absolutely nothing to do with this one.

ARTHUR: Well, the portkey is certainly a bit… smaller than last year's, but it'll have to do.

HARRY: Sir, what do we do with it?

ARTHUR: Hold on, of course.

HERMIONE: But are you sure we can all fit?

ARTHUR: No, but it's worth a try.

They all reach out and put a finger on the end of the ring. Suddenly, they go flying into the air screaming, get thrown around a bit, then crash land.

HARRY: What was that all about?

AMOS: That was a portkey, Harry. It teleports you places.

HARRY: But can't people just apparate?

AMOS: No, you have to be seventeen.

HARRY: Dang. But is it always that painful?

AMOS: *shrugs*

The group walks around in circles a bit, then suddenly finds themselves in the middle of what looks like a giant campsite, full of tents, campfires, and homeless people. Arthur's group says goodbye to the Diggorys and find their tent.

HARRY: *glances at the tent* There's no way we can all fit into that.

HERMIONE: *laughs* Don't you just love magic, Harry?

They try to walk inside. It's exactly the same size as it looked from the outside.

RON: Hey, what happened to our tent, Dad?

ARTHUR: I don't know… It wasn't like this last time.

EMILY: *shrugs* By saving money on the set in this scene, I figured I could buy an orchestra for later.

HARRY: Didn't we already have an orchestra?

EMILY: *thinks for a minute* Whoops…

EVERYONE: *synchronized groans*

EMILY: Hey, it's not that bad! We can all still fit… sort of.

EVERYONE: *not amused*

EMILY: Fine, then. I'll just skip to the next scene, seeing as you guys don't appreciate my money-saving techniques.

The Quidditch World Cup

LUCIUS: Ah, Weasley! And where might your seats be?

ARTHUR: We've got some reserved in the very top row; we should be lucky if none of us fall off. At least we were able to come at all.

LUCIUS: Hahaha, losers! Narcissa, Draco and I were given a box seat by the Minister of Magic himself.

ARTHUR: Well, what can you do? Not all wizarding families are born with money, Malfoy.

LUCIUS: Yes, but I take pride in rubbing it in their faces.

ARTHUR: So I've noticed.

LUCIUS: Well, look on the bright side, Weasley. If it rains, you'll be the first to know.

RON: Oh yeah? Well- well-

HARRY: Say a word, Ron, and I'll personally shove you down the aisle.

Lucius and Draco leave to join Narcissa in the box room. Harry swears he just saw Draco wink at him. Once they get to their seats, Ron becomes very glad that he didn't say another word after realizing how steep the aisles were. Everyone at the top row seems to be grabbing onto one another, afraid of falling off the edge. Finally the match starts. The Irish make their entrance by releasing a bunch of fireworks – many of which are upside-down happy faces – that eventually come together in the form a of giant leprechaun. Their team flies around a bit, some cheering, blah blah blah… Okay, then the Bulgarians come! They fly in through the leprechaun, destroying it, and people start cheering specifically for Viktor Krum, because obviously none of the other players in this competition really matter much.

That night

Back in the cramped tent, Fred and George are dancing around singing some song about the Irish team, who had won the match. Everyone else has to sit to be able to fit into the small area. Suddenly there is a loud bang, and they all run outside to see what it was, eager to get out of the tent. They notice that tents around theirs are currently undergoing spontaneous combustion, which, as suspected, would lead to a mob of people running around and screaming.

RON: Harry, run!

HARRY: No, Ron! I must pass out here and get left behind so I can witness the Dark Mark!

RON: Why?

HARRY: *shrugs*

DEATH EATER: Here, let me help you with that!

The death eater hits Harry with a wooden beam in the back of his head, and he passes out. Ron thinks about helping him, and then decides to catch up with everyone else instead. Sometime later Harry wakes up and sees Barty Crouch Jr. (who he still doesn't know) perform the Dark Mark, which looks like a giant green skull with a snake coming out of its mouth in the sky.

HARRY: Well, that was disappointing. I might as well have stayed conscious long enough to get away.

The Weasleys, Hermione, and some other people run up to Harry.

HERMIONE: Harry! Everyone's been worried about you again but too busy to actually do anything about it!

CROUCH: Why did you do it?

HARRY: What?

CROUCH: The Dark Mark!

HERMIONE: That's His symbol, Harry.

HARRY: Who's, Voldemort's?

RON: *plugging his ears to avoid hearing the name* Lalala…

HERMIONE: Yes.

HARRY: Well, I didn't do it! Some man did.

ARTHUR: Who, Harry?

HARRY: *checks the script* Barty Crouch Jr. I didn't know you had a son?

CROUCH: What? But that can't be!

HARRY: Well, Sirius said the script never lies.

CROUCH: Sirius? Sirius Pink?

ARTHUR: Now, Harry – you aren't helping out hostiles again, are you?

HARRY: Of course not, Sir.

ARTHUR: Good. Now, we should be on our way.

Just because we can, now we'll be skipping all the way to Dumbledore's speech in the Great Hall!

DUMBY: *eh-hem* Alrighty, then. Now that you've all been sorted…

HERMIONE: *whispering to Ron* Have you noticed that he just has students grab a seat in any house except for when us three and Draco were sorted?

RON: *shrugs* I suppose so.

DUMBY: …Instead of the usual rules I like to announce just for Harry Potter to break throughout the year, I must inform you all of the Triwizard Tournament. This year Hogwarts is playing host to it. So not only will Hogwarts be your home this year, but also the home of the students of Beauxbatons Academy of Magic and Durmstrang Institute. Now, let me please introduce… the ladies of Beauxbatons Academy of Magic!

The door opens. A bunch of girls wearing light blue dresses (presumably their school uniforms) and sighing dramatically run in, do some odd frolicking dance thingy, blow kisses and butterflies to the Hogwarts students, and finally sit down at an empty table the director swears wasn't there a minute ago.

DUMBY: And now, the students of Durmstang Institute!

The door bursts open again, this time to a bunch of guys wearing thick furs and each holding a wooden stick, which they swing around a bit and tap on the ground several times, causing sparks to form, and grunting in some sort of chanting pattern to some extent. One or two of them blow fire out of their mouths, and then they sit at another empty table that seems to have appeared out of nowhere.

DUMBY: Thank you. And to all students in this room, welcome to Hogwarts! The Triwizard Tournament, in case you didn't know, is a competition between one student from each school. Each student must undergo three tasks meant to challenge your wit, strength, and sense of humor. To enter the tournament, you place your name in the… in the… One minute, please.

We now see that Dumbledore has an object covered by a cloth and standing on a stool on each side of him. He turns to his right and pulls off one cover to reveal a giant silver… cup with blue flames coming out of its top.

DUMBY: There we go. Now, to enter the tournament, you write your name and school on a piece of paper and insert it into the Goblet of Fire. And if chosen – believe me when I say this – you stand _alone_. But, if you're fortunate enough to win, then you shall have eternal glory! Behold… the Triwizard Cup!

Dumbledore now turns to his left and pulls the cover off the other object, and we see it's a largish… again, a cup thingy. It looks like it might be made of glass and is glowing a light blue with the word 'WIZ' engraved on it.

EMILY: It's the Holy Grail!

RON: I wonder what that's supposed to mean?

HERMIONE: *rolls eyes* Wizard, perhaps?

RON: OH! I get it!

HARRY: *staring into space*

HERMIONE: Harry, what are you doing?

HARRY: Eternal… glory…

HERMIONE: Oh, god, Harry! You're not thinking about entering, are you?

Barty Crouch then gets up and makes his way towards Dumbledore.

CROUCH: Excuse me, Headmaster, but I believe I actually do have a few rules for this Mr. Harry Potter to break throughout the year.

HARRY: Yay!

DUMBY: Of course, go ahead.

CROUCH: Thank you, Dumbledore. Now, let me see… For safety reasons, of course, no wizards under the age of seventeen can enter their name in the Goblet of Fire.

The crowd erupts in an uproar with a bunch of jeering.

FRED: That's rubbish!

GEORGE: It isn't fair!

HARRY: Hey, he said rules for me to break throughout the year… Does that mean I can enter?  
HERMIONE: Of course not, Harry! Don't even think about it!

HARRY: Well, I can't help it if I-

HERMIONE: *smacks Harry with one of her books*  
RON: *shakes head* I'm trying to picture a normal year at Hogwarts…

GINNY: And how's that going for you?

RON: It isn't working.

DUMBY: SILENCE!

The entire room quiets down.

DUMBY: Thank you. Anything else, Mr. Crouch?

CROUCH: No, Sir.

DUMBY: Alright. Oh, and before I forget, all Quidditch matches have been canceled this year for the tournament. Good luck to all who enter.

Most likely that night…

The Great Hall has been cleared out and we see the Goblet of Fire sitting in the middle of the dimly-lit, bluish-looking room with a white line circling around it. Igor Karkaroff, the Durmstrang headmaster, walks into the room, looks around the corner, and then shuts the door slowly.

HARRY: Well, that wasn't suspicious at all!

KARKAROFF: What are you doing here? Go away!

HARRY: Sorry. I felt compelled by my protagonist instincts to investigate your reason for appearing here in such manor, but never mind that! Force of habit, don'cha know?

Harry skips away, back to his dormitory, with Karkaroff watching him, confused.

AUDIENCE: Was there a point to that scene, exactly?

EMILY: Not at all! I just put it in because I felt like it, okay?

AUDIENCE: That's what we figured.

EMILY: Gosh, you guys can't even tell when I'm being sarcastic? I put it in so I could remember how to spell Karkaroff's name, sillies!

AUDIENCE: Right…

Some later date, in the same room

A bunch of students are crowded around, watching to see who puts their name in the Goblet of Fire. Cedric walks up, puts it in, and everybody cheers. Then Fred and George come in!

HERMIONE: You're kidding me. You two aren't really going to try to put your names in, are you?

FRED: Of course we are!

GEORGE: And you get to watch.

HERMIONE: But neither of you are seventeen yet.

FRED: It's called an aging potion, Hermione.

HERMIONE: Dumbledore wouldn't be stupid enough to fall for that. You see this ring? *points* It's an age line. Dumbledore drew it himself, and surely something as simple-minded as an aging potion wouldn't get by it.

GEORGE: Oh, but that's just the thing!

FRED: An aging potion is just simple-minded enough to be overlooked.

HERMIONE: It's not going to work…

Fred and George wink at her, drink the potion, and then jump past the line. Everyone starts cheering. When they put their names in, the goblet spits them back out again and the Weasley brothers are thrown out of the circle, now both with a brand new beard.

HERMIONE: I told you two.

FRED AND GEORGE: You said-!

Fred and George then start tackling each other.

DRACO: Hey, Potter! I'll put my name in if you do yours.

HARRY: No, I'm not doing that! Why does everyone think I'm going to try to enter? Besides, neither of us are old enough.

DRACO: Yeah, but I figured since, you know, you have a director on your side and all… Well, just maybe…

HARRY: On my side? What, are you kidding me? Do I have to remind you of what she let you get away with last year?

DRACO: Oh, please do! No matter how many times I hear it, it never seems to get old.

HARRY: *shivers*

Suddenly Viktor walks in with his two friends, who I think look more like bodyguards. The entire room goes quiet as he puts his name in and then leaves without saying a word.

RON: …Awkward.

DRACO: *turns back to Harry* Pleeaase?

HARRY: No!

Cue Mad-Eye Moody's entrance!

AUDIENCE: You never introduced him.

EMILY: Mind your own business! Besides, you all know him. Like Colin, he's one of those people who I chose not to mention right away. But he's been here – honest. Just ask him!

AUDIENCE: *look at Moody*

MOODY: I must've gotten on the wrong train coming to Hogwarts. It took me right past the school.

AUDIENCE: But there's only one train?

EMILY: *shrugs*

Moody walks over to the Goblet of Fire, sticks a piece of paper in, and then walks away.

MOODY: You saw nothing!

HARRY: I don't remember a thing.

MOODY: Good boy. *tosses Harry a treat*

HARRY: *catches and eats treat* Ooh, was that a Scooby Snack?

HERMIONE: Hey, he can't put a paper in there! He's not allowed to enter.

RON: Maybe he was entering for another student?

HERMIONE: He's not allowed to do that either! Harry, what do you think he did?

HARRY: I don't remember a thing.

HERMIONE: Harry!

RON: He's right, Hermione. The director has had to remind us a million times: 'Don't automatically blame someone for looking suspicious', or something like that. It's about time we learned it.

AUDIENCE: *glare at Emily*

EMILY: *shrugs again*

RON: Besides, he looks so innocent!

HERMIONE: That's what Harry said about Professor Quirrell.

HARRY: Did not!

HERMIONE: Yes you did!

HARRY: What, would you rather I just blame Snape for the plot that hasn't happened yet?

HERMIONE: Yes! I mean, no!

HARRY: Exactly.

RON: Maybe it was Malfoy?

HARRY: Yes, that's it! It had to be Malfoy!

RON: Wait, what had to be Malfoy?

HARRY: Whatever caused the plot, silly.

RON: Oh, right. I knew that.

HERMIONE: You idiots! You can't blame people when the plot hasn't happened yet.

HARRY: Hermione, we're only fourteen. Give it up; we don't mature until seventh year, and even then I'm afraid we'll still be going through puberty.

HERMIONE: Why do I even bother…?

Alright, so maybe that scene stretched on a little too long. Anyway, it's Defense Against the Dark Arts time!

MOODY: Blah, blah, blah… Don't put your gum under the table, Mr. Finnigan! *chucks a piece of chalk at Seamus* Okay, now time for the actual lesson!

SEAMUS: Ow…

DEAN: Sir, you mean that wasn't part of the lesson at all?

MOODY: Of course not! It's merely an interesting way to transition into the scene. Alright, so today's topic: the unforgettable curses, named so because they're, well, unforgettable. The use of any one would get you a one-way ticket to Azkaban! But I'm going to show them to you anyway, because I'm special. Mr. Weasley, would you like to give me the first?

RON: Depends. Are you planning on failing me in this class?

MOODY: *frowns* I meant tell me the name of one.

RON: Oh, right. Um… uh… the, uh, the Imperious Curse?

MOODY: Right you are, Ronald McDonald!

RON: *whispers to Hermione* Hey, only my dad gets to call me that!

MOODY: Now, class, watch and learn. *turns to some spider-like thing* _Imperio!_

The spider thingy jumps up. Moody makes it run around doing some sort of Irish jig for a bit, then jump onto Ron's head just because he's slowly inching his way away from it. Ron screams; the class laughs.

MOODY: You think that's funny, do you? *makes it jump onto Draco's head*

CLASS: *a bunch of laugh attacks*

MOODY: Yes, what should I make it do next? Kill his best friend? Jump off a cliff? Drown himself?

CLASS: *immediately quiet*

MOODY: The Imperious Curse is messy business. Many people claim they only did You-Know-Who's bidding because they were under it. *places the spider back into its jar* Now, anyone want to give me another? Neville, perhaps? I'm sure you know one.

NEVILLE: The-the-the Cr-Cruciatus Curse?

MOODY: Exactly. _Crucio!_

The spider starts moving around in pain. Neville start crying. Hermione chucks a book at Moody and starts yelling at him.

HERMIONE: Stop it! Can't you see it's bothering him?

MOODY: *stops* Perhaps you'd like to give me the last one, Miss Granger?

HERMIONE: *shakes her head*

MOODY: I see. _Avada Kedavra!_

SPIDER: *dies*

MOODY: The killing curse. Only one has been known to survive it, and they're sitting in this room. *stands in front of Harry's desk*

EMILY: Ooh, I know! I know!

MOODY: Yes, you, Potter.

EMILY: Dang! I was gonna say that.

MOODY: *sits down on Harry's desk* Nobody knows for sure how or why, because it is said that there is no way to shield the curse. But somehow you, a mere baby, did it.

RON: Didn't Harry's parents die in car crash?

MOODY: No! Now shut up!

HARRY: Uh, Sir… Could you please get off my desk? It always creeps me out when teachers do that.

MOODY: *gets up with a grunt* Class dismissed! Mr. Longbottom, may I please have a word with you?

The class starts to leave. Neville walks towards Professor Moody.

NEVILLE: Yes, Sir?

MOODY: Professor Sprout told me you had a knack for herbology, so I wanted you to have this. *hands Neville a book*

NEVILLE: Ooh, is it a book? For me?

HERMIONE: I know a lot about books, Neville. And that's a book.

MOODY: Er… yes. Now go away, Miss Granger.

HERMIONE: Yes, Professor!

The next day

Wait, or maybe later that day?

No, just hold on a minute…

EMILY: *thinks*

AUDIENCE: *annoyed groan*

Possibly sometime later!

EMILY: *satisfied with herself*

In the Great Hall

DUMBY: Now it's time to see who gets to be a champion in the Triwizard Tournament! Yay! Now, I would stick my hand in the goblet and pick out a name at random, but that looks far too hazardous, so instead I'll just do some random spell thingy to pick it out! And the Hogwarts champion is…

A piece of paper flies out of the goblet and Dumbledore catches it.

DUMBY: *reading* Um… uh… Hagrid, could you please tell me what this says? Whoever wrote it has terrible handwriting.

HAGRID: Er, it's upside down, Headmaster. *flips it over* Try this.

DUMBY: Ah, right! Thank you, my fellow gamekeeper. And the Hogwarts champion is… Cedric Diggory!

CEDRIC: *while walking up to the front enthusiastically* Yay me! Yay me!

HOGWARTS STUDENTS: *cheering*

DUMBY: Alright, and now, the Beauxbatons champion is… Fleur Delacore!

FLEUR: *smiles and walks up front*

BEAUXBATON STUDENTS: *cheering*

DUMBY: And the Durmstang champion is… Well, big surprise here. Just about the only noteworthy student attending the school, Viktor Krum!

VIKTOR: *gets up with a blank expression and walks up front*

ALL STUDENTS: *awkward silence*

DUMBY: Okay, our three Triwizard champions!

STUDENTS: *cheering*

DUMBY: Oh no, this won't do. Harry must be involved in the plot somehow… hm…

The Goblet of Fire spits out another paper.

DUMBY: *picks it up* Ah, just in time! Harry Potter! Hm, it appears someone spelled his name wrong… Harry Potter with only one T!

HERMIONE: Harry?

HARRY: *tries to duck between students* No, that can't be me! I spell my last name with two T's!

EMILY: *shoves Harry up*

HARRY: *whispering* But I didn't-

EMILY: *glares*

HARRY: Okay.

Harry walks to the front of the room; no one cheers. Instead they stare in an awkward silence like with Viktor's, except this time more in hate than awe.

HARRY: Now, that's not very nice. *frowns* Being famous is so confusing…

DUMBY: Congratulations, Harry! I mean, uh… I'm very, very disappointed in you. *winks*

In… some other room. Place. Thing…

DUMBY: Harry, did you put your name in the Goblet of Fiyaaa?

HARRY: No, Sir!

DUMBY: Are you sure?

HARRY: Yes, Sir!

DUMBY: *looks at the other headmasters* Well, he says he's sure…

MAXIME: But obviously he is lying!

KARKAROFF: He's not even seventeen!

CROUCH: The Goblet of Fire is a binding agreement.

McGONAGALL: And what's that supposed to mean?

CROUCH: Mr. Harry Potter is officially a second Hogwarts champion, and must perform in the Triwizard Tournament.

EVERYONE: *terrified looks*

DUMBY: I believe in you, Harry!

In the Gryffindor Common Room

RON: So. How did you do it?

HARRY: Do what?

RON: You bloody well know what!

HARRY: Oh. That. Look, Ron… I don't know what happened tonight, but whatever did… It just did, okay?

RON: Oh, right. Of course you won't even bother to tell your best friend.

HARRY: It's not like that, Ron! I didn't put my name in that cup!

RON: Sure…

HARRY: You know what, Ron?

RON: What?

HARRY: Piss off!

RON: Fine! Maybe I will, Scarface.

HARRY: Ginger.

RON: Four-eyes!

HARRY: Redhead!

As I'm pretty sure Ron and Harry can keep up a nice, long stream of insults, I'm just gonna jump to the next scene.

Somewhere else, some other time

RITA: Hello. I'm Rita Skeeter, reporter for the Daily Prophet. But enough about me; everyone wants to know more about you, and what makes you Triwizard champions.

HARRY: *to Cedric* Keep quiet, and maybe she'll go away.

RITA: Alright, let's start with the youngest. *forcefully drags Harry with her*

In a broom cupboard

RITA: There we go! Much more comfortable, isn't it?

HARRY: It's a broom cupboard.

RITA: Well, just like home. Now tell me, Harry, why did you put your name in the Goblet of Fire? Hm?

HARRY: I didn't-

RITA: Oh, come on. Everyone loves a rebel, Harry. So, being only twelve-

HARRY: Fourteen.

RITA: -what drove you to the point? Was it your rough past, with the loss of your parents?

HARRY: No. Why does everyone automatically assume that that's all I ever think about?

RITA: Or are you questioning your sexuality because of what happened in the Astronomy Tower last year?

HARRY: You know about that?

RITA: Everyone knows about that. Or perhaps, your need for attention? As I recall, you've always enjoyed playing hero.

HARRY: My what? Need for attention? I need no such thing!

RITA: Of course you don't. *winks*

HARRY: *looks over at Rita's pen* Hey! I'm not trying to seduce you!

By the Black Lake, which is, once again, much larger than it was in the previous film. Harry is writing in his diary as Neville throws rocks into the lake and fishes around for interesting plants.

NEVILLE: Amazing! Utterly amazing!

HARRY: Neville, you're doing it again.

NEVILLE: Doing what?

HARRY: Talking to yourself.

NEVILLE: Oh. Sorry, Harry. But look, you've got to see this! It's a plant, maybe some rare type of herb or something, but it's tanish-brown, and look how small each one is! You can barely see it! Hey, and when you pick it up underwater it looks all sparkly!

HARRY: That's called sand, Neville. It's a rare type of dirt.

NEVILLE: See? I told you it was rare! I wonder what super rare and expensive potions I can brew up with it?

HARRY: Oh, I know that one. You can mix it with water, and then you get this… No, wait. That's just muddy water. Honestly, Neville! It's just sand; it's completely worthless.

NEVILLE: *whimpers* Aw. But can't you at least pretend to be excited? I mean, there's nothing ever fun to do at Hogwarts. Seriously, why is it only muggles have technology? It makes us look like we're still in the stone ages. I mean, look at Hogwarts! It literally is made of stone!

HARRY: *shrugs*

Enter Ron, Hermione, and a couple other random people!

HARRY: Hermione, Ron, a couple other random people. What are you guys doing here?

HERMIONE: Ron told me that… That someone told him, that… Aw, screw this! Harry, Hagrid's looking for you.

HARRY: Well, you can tell Ron that-

HERMIONE: I'm not an owl! Unless you pay me, of course, but other than that…

HARRY: Pay you? No way!

HERMIONE: Fine, then.

Okay, time to go to Hagrid's! Or, actually, not Hagrid's… But, you know, WITH Hagrid, in the Forbidden Forest.

HARRY: Hagrid, are you dressed up?

HAGRID: No. What makes you think that?

HARRY: Hagrid, you've combed your hair!

HAGRID: Yes! As a matter of fact, I have. It would be nice if you did too, once in a while.

HARRY: Hey!

HAGRID: Well, it's true.

HARRY: Fair enough. But what was it you wanted to show me, Hagrid?

HAGRID: Can't tell you; you'll see. Quick, the lingerie! Put it on.

HARRY: Oh, right!

Harry slips on the invisibility lingerie.

HAGRID: Hm… Actually, I think you might need to hide in the bushes as well. You know, just to be extra safe.

HARRY: Oh, okay. I suppose you're right, but is it really that bad?  
HAGRID: No, of course not! I mean, it looks great, Harry, but…

HARRY: I'm not really that invisible?

HAGRID: Exactly.

HARRY: Darn that 45%... But admit it – it does flatter my figure, don't you think?

HAGRID: *sighs* Alright, I suppose so. Now, quick! Behind the bushes!

Harry jumps behind the bushes to see Madame Maxine show up.

MAXINE: Oh, Hagrid! I thought you wouldn't really come.

HAGRID: Of course I did!

MAXINE: Now, what was it you wanted to show me?

HAGRID: *points*

Harry and Maxine turn to see a bunch of dragons in cages.

HARRY: Why I didn't see that right away, I have no idea. It's kinda hard to keep a bunch of dragons hidden, isn't it? Hey, Hagrid, what are they for, anyway?

HAGRID: That's the first challenge, you idiot!

HARRY: Oh. Can I keep one?

HAGRID: *sighs*

The next day, or some later date…somewhere else

CEDRIC: Oh, Harry! I'm so sorry. About the buttons, uh… I told people not to wear them, but they wouldn't listen to me.

Harry looks down at Cedric's robe to see he's wearing an awesomely animated Potter Stinks button.

HARRY: Uh… You're wearing one yourself.

CEDRIC: No I'm not.

HARRY: Yeah, you are. See, it's right-

CEDRIC: Prove it.

HARRY: Prove it? Fine; never mind, then. I just came to tell you that the first task is dragons.

CEDRIC: Dragons? Do we get to keep them?

HARRY: Yeah, that's what I wanted to know. But then Hagrid got all mad at me when I asked, and I just can't understand why…

Harry turns to leave when he sees Cho walk by.

HARRY: Woah! Who the hell is that and why isn't she a protagonist?

EMILY: That's Cho Chang, your Hetero Love Interest.

HARRY: Ack! That scary 'hetero' word again! Tell me, why doesn't Hogwarts have an English class, again?

EMILY: *rolls eyes* Well, I suppose you might as well know, now that you're in the fourth year. Hetero means 'different', as in 'not the same sex'. So your Hetero Love Interest would be the woman you fall in love with.

HARRY: Ewe, am I really old enough to be dating already?

EMILY: *shrugs* You're fourteen now. Besides, I had my first boyfriend in kindergarten.

HARRY: How is that possible?

The evil director punches Harry.

HARRY: Ow! I'm just saying… Isn't that a bit too-

The evil director punches Harry again.

HARRY: OUCH! Alright, never mind, then!

EMILY: Good. My personal life is not of your business.

HARRY: Wait, you have a-

EMILY: *glares*

HARRY: Shutting up.

EMILY: Good.

Enter Draco

DRACO: Ah, Harry! Have you seen the new buttons? Quite the eye-catchers, don't you think?

HARRY: Shut up, Malfoy.

DRACO: Oh, we're not in a good mood today, are we?

Harry turns around, thoroughly sick of dealing with temperamental and possibly psychotic people, when Draco lifts his wand use as a backscratcher. Of course Moody sees this, and, thinking he's about to attack Harry, jumps in and turns Draco into a ferret, this being the natural thing for one to do in situations like these.

EMILY: Oh, Draco looks so cute as a ferret! Do we really have to turn him back?

HARRY: You know, I've gotta agree with you on that one. He can't cause much harm in that form.

DRACO: *climbs into Crabbe's pants*

CRABBE: Teeheehee, AHHH! HE BIT SOMETHING!

HARRY: …I spoke too soon.

EMILY: *shrugs* Well, at least it's slightly less dangerous than when Oliver went to this school.

McGONAGALL: *runs over* Is that a student? Professor Moody!

Professor McGonagall turns Draco back into his usual, greasy-haired self.

McGONAGALL: Moody! We never use transfiguration as a punishment! Surely Dumbledore told you that?

MOODY: He, uh… might've mentioned it… once or twice.

McGonagall turns around to leave; Moody sticks his tongue out at her.

MOODY: Come with me, Harry. We have things to talk about.

HARRY: I didn't do it! I swear, the director made me!

MOODY: You're not in trouble.

HARRY: Oh. Well, in that case…

Moody's office… Or at least, I'm assuming it's his office. I can't be too sure.

MOODY: So. What are you going to do about your dragon?

HARRY: Dragon? Oh, yes. I was gonna name him Smaug after the dragon my parents defeated to get all their money, or so Hagrid claimed, and then I would buy him a nice big collar-

MOODY: No, Harry! You aren't keeping the dragon; you have to fight it.

HARRY: What? But I can't fight Smaug! We were meant to be together! But, I suppose if I must…

MOODY: Good boy. Now, once again, what are you going to do about it?

HARRY: Well, I don't know… Close my eyes and pretend it's not there?

MOODY: Right. And how did that go when you fought that basilisk, again?

HARRY: Uh… Not so well? Hey, and how did you-

MOODY: Because I'm special. No, Harry, you need to find your strengths; your skills. You see, Viktor has his strength, Fleur her pretty face, and Cedric… Well, his good looks as well.

EMILY: Good point. I've gotta say, Cedric is really one of the more sexy heroes, which is quite odd, really, because how could anyone so sexy possibly be a good guy in this universe? Tom said so himself, and now it's bothering me that he might be right. Meaning that… *gasp*

AUDIENCE: Just… Shut up.

EMILY: Hey, I think I'm having an epiphany. You shut up.

HARRY: But Sir, none of those skills can defeat a dragon.

MOODY: Oh, you'd be surprised. But never mind their skills; what are yours?

HARRY: Um… er… I can fly?

MOODY: Exactly!

HARRY: But surely I won't be allowed to take a broom?

MOODY: You're allowed a WAND.

The day of the first task

We zoom around the camera for a bit to get a good feel about how many people are in the arena's audience, making you wonder how half of them even fit into the Great Hall in the first place. Surprisingly, a lot more people are dressed to support Harry than you would've thought, judging how they all appear hate him.

Okay, in some tent thing

HERMIONE: *jumps inside the tent and attack hugs Harry* I'm so worried about you!

HARRY: Me too. With my undying stupidity and lack of judgment, I'm so screwed.

Just then Rita comes in and her evil minions snap a picture!

RITA: Ah, young love! How… disgusting.

VIKTOR: This tent is for champions. You are neither a champion nor a friend of one, so get a life.

RITA: *about to say something back, but gives up* Fine, then.

Rita and her band of evil Daily Prophet minions march away, leaving behind a path of death and destruction. This means the end for camera shy's everywhere, as most of these horrendous pictures will most likely be put up on Facebook, tagged, and distributed throughout the entire world, starting with Canada.

AUDIENCE: Why Canada?

EMILY: *shrugs* First place that came to my mind.

HARRY: …Right.

DUMBY: *walks in with the other headmasters and Barty Crouch* Welcome to the first task, Triwizard champions! Uh, Hermione… What are you doing here?

HERMIONE: Oh! I, um… I was looking for a toad. A boy named Neville's lost one. Have you seen it?

HARRY: *elbows Hermione* Sorry, I'm afraid that excuse really only works once.

DUMBY: *pulls a toad out of his robes* Oh, you mean this toad?

HERMIONE: Er – yes! That has to be it. *takes toad* Um, thank you, Professor. *whispers to Harry* Now what do I do with it?

HARRY: I don't know! Give it to Neville, or something. Maybe it really is his.

Hermione walks back towards her seat carrying the toad, both disgusted and surprised.

DUMBY: Sorry, where was I? Oh, yes. Triwizard champions! Today you'll be facing… wait for it… *takes a deep breath* DRAGONS!

CHAMPIONS: *not surprised at all*

DUMBY: …Oh. So apparently you all knew already. Well, no matter! It's not like that'll make it any easier on you. Alright, Barty. Hand me the bag!

CROUCH: Uh, why don't I do it, Sir?

DUMBY: Wonderful suggestion! Wait, why?

CROUCH: *holds out a velvet bag* Okay, champions. As I go around, I want you to each pick out a dragon to fight. But I warn you – these dragons are very real. So take turns, no trading, and remember: you get what you get and you don't get upset. Now, let's start with… *turns to Harry*

HARRY: *beams obnoxiously*

CROUCH: Nah, ladies first. *turns around to Fleur*

FLEUR: *pulls out a little green dragon*

HARRY: Woah, are they really that small?

CROUCH: *ignores Harry's obvious question* Ah, the Welsh Green.

VIKTOR: *pulls out a red dragon*

CROUCH: Oh, the Chinese Firebolt. And now for Cedric.

CEDRIC: *pulls out a blue dragon*

CROUCH: Hm. The Swedish Short-Snout. And that leaves…

HARRY: The Hungarian Horntail…

CROUCH: What was that?

HARRY: Oh, nothing! *pulls out his dragon*

CROUCH: Oh dear.

HARRY: What? You act like you didn't already know.

CROUCH: It's just… I mean… the Hungarian Horntail!

AUDIENCE: Now, why would they have the Triwizard Tournament, a competition between three, or in this case four, evenly-matched students to see which one comes out victorious when some dragons are more menacing that the others? It's hardly fair, and puts the wizard facing it at a great disadvantage, whether he or she was prepared enough as the other competitors or not.

EMILY: I'd save the speech if I were you. Apparently there's no room for logic at Hogwarts.

So to save time in the movie, we cut out the first three champions fighting their dragons!

AUDIENCE: Rawr!

EMILY: Oh, hush.

Cedric fights his and wins… then Fleur… and finally Viktor. Harry's turn!

HARRY: *fell asleep waiting*

CROUCH: Uh, we should wake him up. It's his turn.

DUMBY: Ooh, I know what to do!

Dumbledore shoves Harry out into the arena, waking him up.

HARRY: Huh? Wuh? *looks up* Oh, crap.

We pan up to see a giant redish-brown dragon with spikes all over it!

EMILY: Aww, ish so cute!

AUDIENCE: *hang heads in shame*

A basic overview of Harry's sorry performance: he runs around a bit, hiding behind rocks as the Horntail tries to torch him. You'd think he'd have remembered his plan by now, or at least bothered to try something, preferably with magic, to protect himself or somehow get past the dragon, but never mind that.

HERMIONE: Your wand! Use your wand, Harry!

HARRY: *looks at his wand* Oh, right. I completely forgot I had this weapon of mass destruction in my hand this whole time.

Harry tosses his wand across the arena.

HARRY: Fetch!

DRAGON: *raises and eyebrow at Harry*

HERMIONE: *to Ron* He's going to get himself killed!

RON: *eating a hot dog*

HERMIONE: Ron, are you even paying attention? Your best friend is gonna die and you don't even care!

RON: We hate each other right now, remember?

HERMIONE: Ronald Weasley!

RON: Alright, alright! If he lives we'll make up.

HERMIONE: If!

Harry stares up at the Hungarian Horntail in disbelief.

HARRY: Why won't you play fetch?

DRAGON: Because your blind stupidity doesn't cease to amaze me. In all my life I've never met a creature as simple-minded as you.

HARRY: Thanks?

DRAGON: It's such a shame I have to destroy you now. Unless, of course, you have any other displays of your idiocy you'd like to entertain me with first?

HARRY: Um… uh… Parley?

DRAGON: Begging your pardon?

HARRY: Parley. I believe it's a conference of truce under two enemy parties.

DRAGON: I see. So, what is it you want to discuss, pitiful being?

HARRY: Er, I was wondering if we could come to an accord. You know, like civilized creatures.

DRAGON: I'm listening.

HARRY: If you could just give me that golden egg you're guarding-

DRAGON: Neva'!

HARRY: Alright, let's try this: I challenge you to a game.

DRAGON: Ooh, like Monopoly?

HARRY: Uh, not quite.

DRAGON: The Game of Life? Clue? *gasp* Jumanji?

HARRY: I, uh… No. It's not a board game.

DRAGON: Alright, fair enough. What about, say, a video game. Is it a video game? Because those are always quite difficult for me. You see, I have trouble correctly grasping the console's controllers, so I'm afraid that would probably leave you at a slight advantage, and I don't like unfair matches, hence me allowing you to bring in a wand as I'm already armed with fire, size, and these spike thingies, but of course you already blew that one.

HARRY: Actually, it's not a video game either. I was actually referring to something a little more-

DRAGON: Oh, I know! It's a card game, isn't it? How did you know I love to gamble? Back where we're usually kept in captivity we dragons often spent the long days playing things like Poker, Blackjack, Hearts, Spit… all that good stuff. Once we even asked our feeder if he could install a Slots machine, but of course he said no, and so then we-

HARRY: It isn't a card game! Do I look like I have the supplies for any of the things you brought up?

DRAGON: Hm… No, I suppose not. Well, actually we DO have these random rocks lying around… Jacks, then?

HARRY: *grimaces*

DRAGON: *sighs* Alright, fine. I give up. What did you want to challenge me to?

HARRY: I was actually just going for Rock, Paper, Scissors.

DRAGON: *blinks in surprise* Oh. How come I didn't think of that?

HARRY: Well, I suppose you were just thinking way ahead of my simple-minded self, as you said before.

DRAGON: Yes, that must be it. So… Rock, Paper, Scissors. What about it?

HARRY: If I win, I get to keep the golden egg. If you win, you get to eat me.

DRAGON: Heavens, no! I'm a vegetarian, you see? I just happen to have a knack for violence, being a dragon. Besides, I was actually starting to enjoy your company. Not that many wizards talk to me, you see. Can't I just, you know, keep you as a pet or something?

HARRY: *worried expression* I-I suppose that works too…

DRAGON: Yay! Alright, let's go.

The Hungarian Horntail and Harry prepare to begin their intense game of Rock, Paper, Scissors as the audience, unable to have heard the previous discussion and therefore very confused as to grasping the full situation, sit in awe at Harry's skill in his non-violent approach to the situation. In later years he is to be known as the Dragon Whisperer and possibly star in his own television show, but we won't worry about that for now. Anyway, so Harry chooses scissors against the dragon's paper, knowing that it would probably have difficulty making the other moves, proving once and for all that, stupid as he may be, Harry isn't half the idiot he usually gets credit for. Or perhaps that was just luck and logic had nothing to do with it. Either way, Harry wins. No questions.

HARRY: Yay, I win!

DRAGON: Aw, no fair! Best two out of three?

HARRY: No! A deal's a deal.

DRAGON: I'll give you CANDY?

HARRY: Well, when you – NO! Professor Quirrell already tried that one on me!

DRAGON: Who?

HARRY: Never mind. I'll just take my egg and go, then.

DRAGON: Alright. Goodbye! Hope to see you again soon, pathetic human!

HARRY: You too!

Harry then grabs the golden egg and exits the arena. The judges stare in awe at his remarkable success, awarding him first place, and concluding that sometimes it's better to resort to talking things out and creating peace rather than violence. This has been a message from your local Cool Tools Commission.

AUDIENCE: You really need to get some new jokes…

EMILY: Hey, it takes a lot of talent to stay original for four scripts! So mind your own business.

That night, or at least that's assuming it's the same night, in the Gryffindor Common Room

GRYFFINDORS: *cheering*

HARRY: *waving around the golden egg* Who wants me to open it?

GRYFFINDORS: We do!

HARRY: Too bad, suckers!

HERMIONE: *glares*

HARRY: I mean, uh, okay!

Harry opens the egg and everyone hears a terrible screeching noise.

HARRY: *shuts egg hurriedly* Hermione made me do it!

RON: *walks over* Alright! Clear out, everyone. This champion needs some alone time with his best friend.

GRYFFINDORS: *clearing out*

HARRY: Best friend? I thought you were mad at me.

RON: You swear you didn't put your name in?

HARRY: Oh, of course I did. Because bargaining with dragons is exactly my idea of fun.

RON: Is that sarcasm?

HARRY: Yes.

RON: Then I suppose we're cool.

HARRY: Hermione put you up to this, didn't she?

RON: Who, Hermione? No, of course not! She had absolutely nothing to do with it… *looks in the other direction*

HARRY: You're a terrible liar, Ron. But I accept your apology.

RON: Yay! *attack hugs Harry*

HARRY: *hugs back*

BOTH: *crying*

HARRY: I love you, Ron!

RON: I love you too, Harry!

EMILY: Ewe. Alright, I'm going to just… skip over this touching scene.

AUDIENCE: *relieved* Thank you.

In, uh… I want to say the Great Hall?

McGONAGALL: Now, as you all should be aware, we have the Yule Ball coming up, which is, first and foremost, a dance. You – Mr. Weasley. *turns to Ron*

RON: Uh, yeah?

McGONAGALL: Dance with me, you fool!

RON: Wh-what?

McGonagall grabs Ron and starts dancing with him as Filch starts the music. Pretty soon everyone gets up and practices dancing.

AUDIENCE: Impossible! McGonagall would never do that. Or at least, not in that manor, anyway.

EMILY: Shut. Up.

Some later date in the Great Hall, probably around lunchtime

AUDIENCE: Now, hold on a minute. Where did the part with Neville dancing by himself go?

EMILY: Must you even bother asking?

AUDIENCE: We thought you gave up that old habit of cutting out scenes.

EMLY: Might I remind you, I am simply exercising my ultimate power. I have graciously kept most parts in the movie here anyway, so please refrain yourselves from pushing your luck.

AUDIENCE: …

RON: Hey, look! I got a package!

HARRY: Ooh, can I open it?

RON: No, I wanna open it!

Ron opens up the package and holds out a light blue ball gown that looks like something right out of Cinderella. Hey, and look – it even comes with its own pair of glass slippers!

RON: *walks over to Ginny's seat* Here, Ginny. Mom must've meant these for you.

GINNY: No, silly! They're your dress robes.

RON: My what?

Ron faints just before Harry realizes that in the package was also a tux with a card saying it was for him.

AUDIENCE: Honestly. Cross-dressing again?

EMILY: *beams* It never gets old!

In potions class

EMILY: Or at least, I think it's potions class.

AUDIENCE: But there aren't any potions…

EMILY: Yes, but Snape is here?

AUDIENCE: But still. They're writing stuff.

EMILY: Detention, perhaps?

AUDIENCE: Hermione's here as well.

EMILY: Grr.

In some class type thing

EMILY: Happy?

AUDIENCE: Better.

HARRY: So, Ron. Have you found anyone to go to the dance with?

RON: No. You?

HARRY: Nope.

RON: We're such failures, aren't we?

HARRY: Yup. And I thought getting past a dragon was hard…

FRED: Aw, come on, guys! Getting a date is so easy.

RON: Oh yeah? Well, let's see you get one.

Fred crumples up a piece of paper and tosses it at a random girl sitting at the table in front of him.

LIZA: *looks up*

AUDIENCE: Who's Liza?

EMILY: My friend. Deal with it.

AUDIENCE: And how many non-cannon characters are you planning to introduce, again?

EMILY: Just… Would you guys ever go away?

AUDIENCE: Happily.

EMILY: No, I mean… just… Never mind.

Fred uses his amazing sign language skills to ask Liza to the Yule Ball, and she accepts.

AUDIENCE: Amazing sign language skills, huh? More like pointing and fake dancing notions.

EMILY: Yeah, but you get the point.

AUDIENCE: Well, technically-

EMILY: GRAH! *waves clipboard threateningly*

AUDIENCE: *shuts up*

EMILY: *calming down* Face it, Harry: if you can't find anyone who actually wants to go to the dance with you, you're probably going to have to resort to asking either me or Draco.

AUDIENCE: Well, actually-

EMILY: Piss off.

HARRY: Ewe! I mean, not to you, but… Draco? Honestly, are we even allowed to do that?

HERMIONE: *shrugs* I don't see why not.

RON: *just notices Hermione's there* Hey, Hermione! You're a girl. Would you like to, you know… go to the ball with me?

HERMIONE: Oh, Ron! I thought you'd never-

Emily smacks Hermione with the clipboard.

HERMIONE: *rubbing her head* I mean, uh… Ronald Weasley, how dare you! As a matter of fact, someone's already asked me. And I said YES.

Hermione storms up to the front of the classroom and hands Professor Snape her papers, then leaves.

RON: …Was it something I said?

HARRY: Well, there goes one less candidate to go out with us. Now what? I don't want to go with the director or Malfoy!

RON: *gets an idea* Hey, dir-I mean, uh, Emily! You're a girl. Would YOU like to, you know… go to the ball with me?

EMILY: *thinks about the offer*

AUDIENCE: Say no! Say no!

EMILY: Of course, Ron!

RON: Yay!

HARRY: *realizes what this means* Noooooooo!

Just to make the whole situation worse, Snape comes over and smacks both Harry and Ron with a book!

RON: Now, that was-

SNAPE: *smacks Ron again*

EMILY: *looks up* Now, if you'll excuse me…

The director then attaches herself to Snape just like in the previous films.

SNAPE: I am going to stand perfectly still and pray that she goes away.

AUDIENCE: Tough luck.

JULIA: Wait, then who do I get to go with?

EMILY: *peers over Snape's chest* Who says you can go?

JULIA: Mom did.

EMILY: *gasps* Liar! But, fine. You can go with… uh… Hm. Do I know any first years?

AUDIENCE: Dennis Creevey?

EMILY: Sure! Go with him.

JULIA: Who's that?

EMILY: Colin's brother.

JULIA: But what if he says no?

EMILY: Then tell him I'll kill him off in the next movie.

JULIA: *thinks* Okay!

In the courtyard

HARRY: It just isn't fair. Why do they have to travel in packs? And how are you supposed to get one of them alone to ask them?

RON: *spacing out*

HARRY: Well, thanks for your interest in my situation, Ron, but I really do need help.

RON: *looks up* Wuh? What was that, Harry?

HARRY: I'm looking for someone to ask to the Yule Ball, remember?

RON: Oh, right. Why don't you just ask your Obligatory Hetero Love Interest?

HARRY: *tries to remember who that was* Oh, right! Cho! Do you know where she is?

RON: I don't know. Where do you usually find girls?

HARRY: *gasp* I think I know!

In the girls' bathroom

HARRY: *pops his head in* Hello? Is an Asian girl named Cho in here?

GIRLS: *screaming*

Fifteen minutes later, both Ron and Harry find themselves beat up and lying tied up in the middle of the Great Hall.

HARRY: I don't get it. Did we do something wrong?

RON: Hey, don't look at me! I didn't even say anything.

HARRY: Gosh, I just don't get girls. They really want someone to ask them to the dance, but the second you do they freak out and reject you. It's maddening.

RON: They'll be the death of me, Harry, I swear they will.

Eventually Cho walks in.

CHO: Oh, my! What happened to you two?

RON: Well, you see, when Harry stuck his head in-

HARRY: *kicks Ron* We were attacked.

CHO: By?

HARRY: Hormonal teenagers, who else?

RON: Well, you can't say it's not like Oliver didn't warn us this sort of thing happens. I mean, if you ask me, we got off lucky.

HARRY: Yeah, but they seemed more upset than… never mind. Cho, could you just help us?

CHO: Alright.

Cho unties Harry and Ron.

RON: Now's your chance, Harry!

HARRY: Oh, right! Ron, could you, uh… go stand in the corner or something?

RON: Sure thing! *runs over to a corner of the room and stares into the wall after giving Harry a thumbs up*

HARRY: Uh, Cho… .

CHO: Sorry… I didn't catch that?

HARRY: *takes a deep breath* What I meant was… *faints*

CHO: Oh my goodness! Harry? Harry, are you breathing?

RON: *looks over his shoulder* What happened?

CHO: I think he fainted. Do you know what he wanted to ask me?

RON: Oh, yeah. He wanted to ask you to the Yule Ball.

CHO: Ewe, Harry wants to go with me?

RON: Yup.

CHO: Well, tell him Cedric already asked me and I said yes.

RON: Did he?

CHO: No, but I'll go find him now and talk him into asking me, so that's close enough.

Cho leaves just as Harry wakes up.

HARRY: Wait!

RON: Don't worry, I asked her for you.

HARRY: You what?

RON: I mean I asked if she wanted to go with you.

HARRY: And what did she say?

RON: She said she'd rather go out with Cedric and she's going to go find him right now.

HARRY: What?

RON: *shrugs*

That night, Harry is in the Common Room crying when there's a knock on the door. He opens it to find an envelope.

HARRY: What's this? But I already got my Hogwarts letter this year. Hm.

Harry opens the letter:

_Dear Harry,_

_ I was wondering if you'd like to go to the ball with me. The director said I had a pretty good chance, since you seemed to be failing at finding any other date. So, please?_

_ XOXOXOXXXOOOXO3 Draco!_

Harry looks up in horror, then chucks it into the fire.

The night of the Yule Ball, in the boys' dorm

RON: *after putting on his ball gown and stepping out from behind his bed* Well, what do you think? Will I be alright?

HARRY: Oh, you look beautiful, Ron.

RON: Yeah. That wasn't what I was going for. Look, do I really have to wear… this?

HARRY: Hey, at least you don't have to go out with Malfoy! I'll trade you?

RON: Bloody hell, no! Maybe she's not Hermione, but at least the director's a female. I'd much rather wear this dress than go out with HIM.

HARRY: I meant… never mind. Maybe I can fake being sick or something?

RON: I think you'll live.

EMILY: Oh, hey guys!

HARRY: Hey, you're not supposed to be up here!

EMILY: I know, but I just had a delightful idea, since I figured Harry had a great idea.

HARRY: Yeah! Wait, I did?

EMILY: Of course. By making Ron cross-dress I realize I've set up embarrassment for myself, when instead I could simply put it all on you, Harry.

HARRY: Wait a minute… huh?

EMILY: You see, it's simple: this way you get to wear Ron's dress and go out with Draco, so one of you looks feminine enough to play the part. Perfect, huh?

RON: Yes!

HARRY: No! You can't do that!

EMILY: Watch me.

Fifteen minutes later, Ron and Emily come downstairs, Ron now wearing Harry's tuxedo.

DRACO: Oh, hello, Director! Hey, Orange One, have you seen my date?

RON: He's coming… eventually.

HARRY: *walks down the stairs dramatically, his face bright red*

GEORGE: *elbows Fred* Hey, look at who we've got here!

LIZA: She's beautiful!

FRED: *laughs* 'She' happens to be a 'he'.

LIZA: Wait, who is it?

FRED: That's Harry Potter, silly!

LIZA: Oh dear.

Liza casts the director a nervous glance, then bursts out laughing.

DRACO: Ah, Potter! You look lovely this evening. *grabs his arm* And hey, did you hear? The champions get the first dance, so we've got the spotlight!

Half the cast enters the Great Hall, which has been decorated just for the occasion. Well, actually it looks more like somebody came in turned the thermostat down to 15 degrees Fahrenheit, but that's alright, because it gives the room a nice, icy atmosphere.

HERMIONE: *walks in with Viktor* Hey, look at me! I'm going out with an athlete! And you've only got-

Hermione turns to see Ron and the director, then runs out of the room crying, not to be seen for the rest of the scene.

RON: I still don't get it. Why does she hate me, again?

HARRY: Ron, just take what you can get and be happy.

RON: Why – oh, right. I'm sorry.

AUDIENCE: We're afraid to find out what happens next in this scene.

EMILY: Oh, relax. What more could I possibly do at this point?

AUDIENCE: The very question haunts us…

DRACO: Come on, Potter! We're up!

And so, Harry is dragged into the center of the room with the rest of the champions and their dates, where there is a bunch of pointing fingers and laughing at Harry's attire. Once the music starts, everyone begins dancing out a Nutcracker Ballet routine, in which Draco plays the Nutcracker, Harry the girl, and the rest of the champions and their dates as the other random characters. Harry, who hadn't been warned about the rehearsals and therefore never learned the routine, mostly stood around looking like an idiot while everyone else danced around him, threw him into the air, and spun him in circles. It was just when Harry felt like he was going to die when it hit him that they were indeed performing the entire ballet. None of the other students every actually end up dancing, as they mostly just pulled up a seat and passed around several bags of popcorn.

AUDIENCE: As much as we hate the idea, this is actually quite amusing.

EMILY: Agreed. Popcorn? *holds out bag to a few audience members who aren't sure whether it's safe enough to accept or not*

HARRY: Meep.

RON: Hey, you never said that the Yule Ball was in fact more of a school production?

EMILY: I'm sorry, did I fail to mention that? I simply figured if I let you know ahead of time that you might warn Harry and give him time to get away.

RON: Ah, I understand. It's a shame Hermione had to miss this, though.

A couple minutes after the ballet is ended and everyone goes back their dorms, Harry passes out and has to be dragged back.

Some later date, on the same random bridge thingy from the last movie

HARRY: So. Viktor. How was it?

HERMIONE: He's an ass. I'm through with men. But, hey, was Ron jealous or what?

HARRY: Uh…

EMILY: *elbows Hermione*

HERMIONE: What? Oh, right! So, did you figure out the egg's hint?

HARRY: Pfft, no!

HERMIONE: Harry! You said you had it weeks ago, and the second challenge is… is… soon!

HARRY: Well, shit.

Cue Cedric and Harry's bumpage-ness!

AUDIENCE: What's that supposed to mean?

EMILY: Simply put, it's a fancy way of saying that they bump into each other.

AUDIENCE: Fancy… right…

HARRY: Why, hello-

EMILY: No! I wanna start that scene, or you know, part of a scene, over. It can't start with my audience interrupting me again, can it?

AUDIENCE: Well, we actually find that perfectly accepta-

EMILY: Shuttup.

Cue Cedric and Harry's bumpage-ness… again!

HARRY: Why, hello, Cedric!

CEDRIC: Hello, Harry! What lovely weather we're having.

HARRY: Yes it is, isn't it? Which is quite a relief, I tell you, because if it had been as cold as yesterday? Oh, that wasn't pleasant. Besides, I lost my jacket.

CEDRIC: Er, you're wearing your jacket…

HARRY: *looks down* Lucky jacket, you've come back! I knew you would! I promise, jacket, I'll never leave you again!

CEDRIC: Right. But isn't this weather just perfect?

HARRY: Yes… you said that already.

CEDRIC: *rolls eyes and pulls Harry against the wall, dropping his voice* Take a bath in the prefect's bathroom, and take your egg with you.

HARRY: Wait, is this a dare?

Cedric considers slapping Harry, then decides it's not worth it.

HARRY: Slapping me? Why would he do a thing like that?

CEDRIC: *groans and walks away*

EMILY: Harry, use the force!

HARRY: Oh, I remember this! You mean trust my instincts, right? *beams*

A frisbee smacks Harry in the face.

EMILY: Uh, no… I meant 'duck' that time.

AUDIENCE: What that relevant to the plot at all?

EMILY: Nope, not at all! Next scene!

That night (probably) in the prefect's bathroom

EMILY: Woah! Why doesn't my bathroom look like this, again?

AUDIENCE: Because you live in an apartment.

EMILY: *le gasp* How did you know?

AUDIENCE: Because we're psychic. Carry on.

EMILY: *horrified look*

Harry strips down to nothing and jumps into the tub.

HARRY: What? In front of all you guys?

EMILY: Yes. Just pretend we're not here.

HARRY: But… but… *whimpers*  
EMILY: Don't worry; it's not like we're taking pictures or anything. *faces audience* Got your video cameras ready?

HARRY: !

Somehow Harry manages to find a towel to change in, THEN jumps into the tub.

EMILY: Grr. You win this time, Potter. But alas, this isn't over yet! I'll get you, and your little owl too!

HARRY: What does Hedwig have to do with anything?

EMILY: Absolutely nothing. I just really wanted to say that line and that was the only way I could think to incorporate it. Now continue bathing, foo!

AUDIENCE: It amazes us how often you can yell and not lose your voice.

EMILY: Ah, yes. But you should hear me when I do – then I sound like Hannah Montana! Actually, probably better.

HARRY: Who?

EMILY: BATHE!

Half an hour passes in complete silence.

HARRY: So… is anything supposed to happen?

AUDIENCE: Yeah, when's Moaning Myrtle coming?

HARRY: Moaning Myrtle?

EMILY: Shh! I'm almost done with the chapter!

AUDIENCE AND HARRY: You read?

EMILY: Of course! What, did you think obnoxious and talkative idiots couldn't read or something?

HARRY: Well… yes?

EMILY: Meh. What did you want again?

AUDIENCE: Er… When's Moaning Myrtle coming?

EMILY: Ewe. I don't like her character, so I locked her in the other bathroom.

AUDIENCE: She's a ghost. That's physically impossible.

EMILY: Piss off! I'm replacing her.

AUDIENCE: Well, even so. If you're gonna replace her, do something!

EMILY: Picky, picky.

AUDIENCE: *preparing a comeback to the director's less-than-pointless remark*

EMILY: God, you're an idiot, Harry.

HARRY: So I've been told. What did I do this time?

EMILY: Open the egg underwater!

HARRY: Well, geez! Why didn't you say so?

Harry takes his egg underwater and opens it, while the director debates whether it's worth it or not to go in with him. While this may cause a pleasant disturbance, or so she believes, it also may (likely, but not fully determined) get her clothing wet, which is an undesirable consequence.

EGG SONG:

_Come seek us where our voices sound_

_We cannot sing above the ground_

_And while you're searching, ponder this:_

_We've taken what you'll sorely miss_

_An hour long you'll have to look_

_And recover what we took_

_But past an hour – the prospect's black_

_Too late, it's gone, it won't come back_

_The director is super awesome_

_Hm… Does anything really rhyme with 'awesome'?_

_Alright, but getting back on track:_

_You piss her off she'll get you back_

HARRY: Hmm… What an odd song. I wonder what that third verse means, anyway? It seemed important.

AUDIENCE: *sarcasm* Yes… we wonder…

EMILY: Teehee.

HARRY: Alright, you've gotta help me out. What does it mean?

EMILY: Figure it out yourself! Honestly, did I really make you that helpless?

HARRY: But… fine. So it said something about people singing underground. Oh, I know! Does it have anything to do with moles?

EMILY: Moles? No!

AUDIENCE: *headdesk* Mermaids! It's mermaids, damn it! You have to rescue your friends from the Black Lake!

HARRY: *pondering this* Oh. Well, geez! Why couldn't you all just tell me sooner? It's conspiracy, I tell you!

EMILY: Yeah, whatever. Now you just need to find a way to hold your breath underwater for an hour.

HARRY: Why, are you about to try and drown me?

EMILY: No! God, don't you pay attention at all? You'll be in the Black Lake. For an HOUR.

HARRY: No kidding?

EMILY: *shakes head*  
HARRY: Well, shit. Hey, I know! Why don't you guys just tell-

EMILY: *chucks a bar of soap at Harry*

In the library

HERMIONE: Harry, did you hit your head?

HARRY: What? Oh, yeah. About that…

RON: Hey, I've got it!

HARRY: What, Ron? Did you find something to help me breathe underwater?

RON: No, but I did manage to find a book that just might help us defeat-

HARRY: This isn't the time, Ron! If it won't help me with this second challenge, we don't need it.

RON: Fine…

Ron puts Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows back on the shelf, wondering if he should've at least read the back.

McGONAGALL: Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley – my office, now.

HARRY: What about me?

McGONAGALL: Uh… no thank you.

McGonagall, Hermione, and Ron exit as Moody and Neville step in to take their place.

MOODY: Hey, Neville!

NEVILLE: Yes, Sir?

MOODY: Go give Harry this plant I happen to have found in my office. Maybe it'll help, I don't know.

NEVILLE: Okay! Hey, Harry! Have this plant!

HARRY: What does it do?

NEVILLE: Uh… it makes you… breathe underwater?

HARRY: For over an hour?

NEVILLE: Sure.

HARRY: Sweet!

Right before the second challenge, on some bridge thingy in front of the Black Lake.

DUMBY: Last night, something was stolen from each of our champions.

HARRY: *gasp* Those bastards!

DUMBY: Each champion has an hour to find their treasure.

HARRY: Wait, say our treasure was food? Then wouldn't it be all soggy, if it was in the lake?

DUMBY: It's a person, dammit! Anyway, where was I? Ah, yes. An hour. GO!

Three of the champions jump into the water while Harry stands there like an idiot. Moody shoves the plant into Harry's mouth and pushes him in.

NEVILLE: Professor, you killed Harry Potter!

MOODY: Yes. Yes, I did. No, wait! Not yet; but I will.

NEVILLE: What?

In the water!

HARRY: Holy crap, Moody is trying to kill me! Why is everyone doing that?

EMILY: *awkward silence*  
HARRY: Oh, right. Ignore me in my time of need. Wait a minute, why can I talk underwater?

Harry looks down to see he has gills… ALL OVER HIS BODY.

HARRY: Well, that isn't natural. And look, I've got webbed hands and feet! I wonder what it'll be like to slap someone with these?

EMILY: It's only for an hour or so.

HARRY: Damn. Wait, so this means Moody was actually helping me? He wasn't trying to kill me?

EMILY: Well, about that…

HARRY: *gasp* Wait, or maybe Snape IS still trying to kill me? No, that's not possible. Hagrid said he stopped killing students four years ago.

EMILY: Actually, you know… Well, I can't blame him. It's hard to kick old habits, and he may've been going through some relapses, but… You should be fine. Should.

HARRY: Meep.

EMILY: Never mind, you should get going.

The director swims by Harry.

HARRY: Wait a minute, how did you-

EMILY: I'm a vampire mermaid. Don't ask.

HARRY: Meep?

Ugh, this scene is kinda boring. Something small and tentacle-y swims by, blah blah blah… Okay, so Harry manages to get to the 'treasures'! And somehow first… hm… Anyway, the treasures are actually people. Ron, Hermione, Cho, and some random little girl, to be exact.

HARRY: *runs to save Cho*

MERMAIDS: Rawr! Only one!

HARRY: But... she is only one?

MERMAIDS: YOUR one.

HARRY: B-But… she's my Obligatory Hetero Love Interest!

MERMAIDS: Oh. Well, when you put it that way…

In the brief minute that the merpeople discuss this idea, Harry makes his move and grabs all four people, then races back to the finish place just in time for the other champions to show up, wondering what happened to their treasures.

EMILY: No, Harry! You can't just – damn, he's fast.

AUDIENCE: Someone's gotta get through to the kid. You've really screwed him up.

EMILY: Shut up.

Back on the bridge-thingy

No, not that bridge-thingy! The dock-bridge-thingy.

DUMBY: And Harry Potter is the winner!

MAXIME: But he cheated!

DUMBY: Yes, but he did really well cheating, don't you suppose?

KARKAROFF: Yes, but… How will you know what place the others came in?

DUMBY: Fine. I'll give Harry second, I suppose, and first will be… Cedric Diggory, just because he's from my school! Then Viktor, because I like you better, Karkaroff.

MAXIME: *gasps* What about Fleur?

DUMBY: She can be disqualified. It's better than last place, isn't it?

MAXIME: No!

DUMBY: Well then she can be first to be disqualified!

KARKAROFF: That's not fair! Viktor would've gotten first!

MAXIME: Fleur didn't even do anything to get disqualified!

The headmasters argue for a good ten minutes, which eventually turns into a fist fight, to which Dumbledore wins, and the ranks were agreed: Cedric, then Harry, followed by Viktor, and Fleur was disqualified. You can just imagine the faces on the champions when they found out everything they just went through didn't amount to anything at all!

Walking back to the castle… no, wait. Why are Hagrid, Ron, and Hermione in the Forbidden Forest? That can't be right…

EVERYONE: *singing*

HARRY: *looks behind a tree* Hey, look! It's Barty Crouch! I wonder why he's sleeping here?

HAGRID: Oh my. He's dead!

HARRY: No! The director said-

EMILY: Shut up. He's dead.

In the castle, in front of some type of cupboard

SNAPE: Potter. Astounding performance at the Black Lake. Gillyweed, wasn't it?

HARRY: I don't know. Possibly?

SNAPE: A rare thing to come by, it is. So is this. *holds out a tiny jar of an unknown black liquid* Do you know what this is?

HARRY: Nope!

SNAPE: Neither do I, but I do know that one drop can make just about anyone spill are their secrets. Continue to lie to me, and I might just let my hand… slip.

EMILY: *muttering under her breath* God, he's so sexy when he talks like that!

HARRY: But, Professor! I didn't lie about anything.

SNAPE: Lies! They're everything that comes out of your mouth, Potter. If I catch you stealing from my storages again-

HARRY: Neville gave me the gillyweed! I didn't steal it. Besides, how else could an idiot like me know what it was and what it did?

SNAPE: True, but still. Supplies keep disappearing, and they tend to be the same things.

HARRY: So? Report the theft to Dumbledore; I didn't do it.

SNAPE: You and your little friends are brewing up a Pollyjuice Potion, and I want to know why!

HARRY: Oh, please! That's SO second year.

SNAPE: *glares evilly at Harry, then shuts the storage door*

Harry stands there for a minute, wondering when Snape plans on coming out. A couple seconds later the handle starts to wiggle, and then Snape knocks on the door several times.

SNAPE: Potter, are you still there? I appear to have forgotten that this door locks from the inside. A terrible idea, really, as it doesn't seem to keep anyone out. Could you, uh… open it, please?

HARRY: *thinking*

SNAPE: Potter?

HARRY: *runs away*

SNAPE: *banging on the door* Dammit, I'll kill you, boy!

EMILY: *opens the door* Oh, fun! He got a head start, but I think you can catch up.

Snape sprints after Harry, but eventually loses his trail.

Outside Dumbledore's office

HARRY: I'm sorry, what am I doing here?

EMILY: What you usually do; snooping around in other people's business and whatnot. But never mind that, just make your entrance.

Harry gets ready to knock, when the door opens to what looks like probably all the Hogwarts staff in a 'private' meeting, obviously trying to look official, even though all they're really doing is arguing and trying to guess what happened to Crouch.

AUDIENCE: Well, actually in the book he asked Harry and Viktor to find Dumbledore, and when they got back Viktor was Stunned and Crouch missing, but of course we find out later that he was buried by Hagrid's, his body having been transfigured into a bone, and it was really his son, disguised as-

EMILY: The logic behind it all! Make it stop! Anyway, continue.

AUDIENCE: Right. So it was really-

EMILY: Not you! I meant the scene.

AUDIENCE: *trash-talking the director behind her back*

MOODY: …Er, Harry! How nice to see you. Uh, shall we continue this conversation elsewhere, Headmaster?

DUMBY: I think we were finished here. After all, did we not come to the same conclusion?

McGONAGALL: What? That we haven't the faintest idea what happened to Crouch or why?

MOODY: *whistling idly*

DUMBY: Exactly. Now, if you'll please…

Dumbledore leads everyone out of his office, instructing Harry to stay put for a couple of minutes, despite it being a common-known fact that Harry is physically incapable of the suggested 'staying put'.

HARRY: Ooh, instead of standing here like an obedient student, I'm gonna go touch something, because that always helps the situation! *nearly gets mauled to death by a bunch of killer little black biting candies* Okay, that wasn't very smart of me at all. On second thought, maybe I should – ooh, shiney!

Harry runs over to the Pensieve.

HARRY: Now, what is this mystically magical and obviously foreshadowing plot device that I'm probably not allowed to touch, much less know even exists?

AUDIENCE: He's right, sort of. You failed to mention this before.

EMILY: Yeah, and make one more nagging comment like that and I'll fail your – your – uh…

AUDIENCE: Is that supposed to be threat?

EMILY: Yes! Yes it is, and you should be very, very scared! So scared, you might just need a clean pair of underwear! *winks*

HARRY: Oh, I can help-

EMILY: No thanks, Harry. You worry about your own problems, and let us deal with ours.

AUDIENCE: *suddenly gets what he's referring to* Ewe…

HARRY: Well, alright. Now what?

EMILY: Let's start simple, then. How about you do what you appear to be so good at?

HARRY: Oh! Snooping around and touching things?

EMILY: Bingo.

HARRY: Yipee!

Harry simply touches the Pensieve and is sucked into one of Dumbledore's memories. He falls from what must feel like a hundred feet, but in reality is only really… two, and lands next to a young (well, not really, but let's not hurt his feelings) Dumbledore. He seems to be in some sort of meeting, and there's a man in a cage in the center of the room. The man is – wait for it – some completely random guy!

AUDIENCE: He has a name.

EMILY: Sure he does, but do you actually know it?

AUDIENCE: It's Karkaroff.  
EMILY: Exactly. Nobody really important does. So anyway, moving along…

AUDIENCE: *jaws drop in offense*

Crouch gets up on some sort of podium. Well, I'd say Young Crouch, but… he actually looks exactly the same. Sorry make-up artists, but it's absolutely true.

CROUCH: Mysterious yet unattractive caged man, you are here because you were a convicted Death Eater, and we would like to know if you have any information for us or if we should just send you right to Azkaban.

MAN: Information? Oh, I can give you names!

CROUCH: That'll work.

MAN: Uh, Lucius Malfoy!

CROUCH: Impossible. Mr. Malfoy is far too sexy to be evil.

MAN: But it's true! It's always the good-looking ones that'll betray you!

CROUCH: *sarcasm* Yes, quite like yourself. Now, if that is all you can-

MAN: Wait! There's more! Uh, Severus Snape!

CROUCH: Snape is now working at Hogwarts and has the Ministry's full trust. Will that be all?

MAN: *thinking*

CROUCH: I see. So if you'll-

MAN: Joss Whedon?

CROUCH: Joss Whedon? Don't be ridiculous.

MAN: But it's true! He's evil!

CROUCH: Understand, he only creates and writes shows of evil for Muggle television. That, on no account, means he can possibly be a Death Eater.

MAN: Wait! I have loads more; LOADS! Um, uh… Let's see, there's… Oh, Jack Sparrow! Definitely him. And, er, Cinderella, Ernie and Bert, John Lennon…and practically the entire cast of Rent! They're all Death Eaters!

CROUCH: Is that so?

MAN: Yes!

CROUCH: You see, John Lennon has died, and the others… impossible. Except for maybe Cinderella, but the Ministry is already keeping a close eye on her. Now, if you have nothing useful to tell us-

MAN: Wait!

CROWD: *awkward silence*

MAN: There is… one more. And he's in this room!

CROWD: *looking around*

BARTY: *gets up and starts to leave*

MAN: Barty Crouch… Jr.!

CROWD: *gasps*

The people sitting around Barty grab him, tackle him to the ground, and then bring him up to Crouch.

CROUCH: *gaping silence*

BARTY: Hello, Father!

CROUCH: Noooooooooooooooooooooooooo! But why I never realized from that tongue thing you always do, I don't know… But still. Nooooooooooooooooooooooooo!

Harry is thrust back into Dumbledore's office.

HARRY: Nooooooooooooooooooooooo!

DUMBY: What did you see, Harry?

HARRY: Actually, I don't know why I freaked out about it. I already knew Barty Crouch Jr. was pretty much evil.

DUMBY: You did? How?

HARRY: Well, he cast that Dark Mark at the Quidditch World Cup, and he was in those weird dreams I keep having. But what was that anyway?

DUMBY: That was a memory of mine. I store them in this Pensieve for when I need to refer back to them.

HARRY: So it's, like, the ultimate solution for altimers disease?

DUMBY: Well, sort of. So I take it you saw my 102nd birthday?

HARRY: You're what? No!

DUMBY: Oh. But that was when all the staff concluded we didn't like him and figured he must be evil with that weird tongue thing he does?

HARRY: I saw when he was actually caught. At that trial thing.

DUMBY: Oh, right. That. Well, what was it you came to see me about again?

HARRY: Oh, nothing! Just… you know, snooping around in other people's business. That's what I do best, isn't it?

DUMBY: *nods sympathetically* Indeed it is… You really need to find yourself a new hobby. But, if that's all… Go away! In a, uh… friend-to-friend sort of way.

HARRY: Okay… 

Okay, time for the third task!

HARRY: Woah, already? That was quick!

EMILY: Yeah. I felt like I should stick another scene in there somewhere, but whatever.

The champions stand at the entrance to the world's largest hedge maze.

DUMBY: Professor Moody has hidden the Triwizard Cup somewhere in this maze, so only he knows where it is. First one to touch it wins!

HARRY: Is it really that simple?  
DUMBY: Yup! Well, sort of… Anyway, we'll begin at the sound of the cannon!

Dumbledore turns to Snape, who is preparing to launch the cannon.

DUMBY: Now, Severus, let's try hard not to 'accidentally' hit any students this time…

SNAPE: Aw… What about first years?

DUMBY: Well, I suppose you can take out a first year, but just one.

SNAPE: *shrugs* Alright.

At the sound of the cannon, which just misses a first year, the champions enter the maze.

SNAPE: Damn.

DUMBY: It's alright, Severus. Next time.

In the maze, Harry notices giant, bright yellow arrows on the ground, making him a pathway.

HARRY: I can't help but wonder if this is cheating.

AUDIENCE: Or maybe it's a trap, simply leading you to something evil?

EMILY: Don't be ridiculous. In the movie adaptation, there are no evil things in the maze!

AUDIENCE: What? But that's so cheap!

EMILY: Hey, don't look at me!

Harry continues to follow the path. Along the way he runs into Fleur, who passed out at the sight of him, and puts up a disqualification flare for her. This is really sad for Fleur, being disqualified twice, but never mind that. Eventually he runs into Viktor trying to attack Cedric as well!

HARRY: *does some spell to Stun Viktor*

CEDRIC: Now, what was all that about?

HARRY: He was bewitched, see his eyes?

CEDRIC: Oh. *sees the path* So, what's this?

HARRY: I don't know, but I found it, and it hasn't gotten me into any trouble so far.

Harry and Cedric look up to see the Triwizard Cup literally right in front of them, then both sprint off after it, when a vine trips Cedric and attempts to eat him alive.

MOMMY VINE: Now, Junior! That wizard is more than enough for one growing vine. Share with your brothers and sisters.

BABY VINE: But, Mommy!

OTHER BABY VINES: Yay! *latch on to Cedric*

CEDRIC: Harry! Harry!

HARRY: *looks up at the cup, now several feet away* Damn. Here comes the point where I have to choose between following my perfectly normal desire to win the Triwizard Tournament and leaving Cedric to die and my annoying temptation to continue being a protagonist… Life sucks.

Harry runs back and attacks the vines.

VINES: Oh no! Run for your lives; the end is near!

HARRY: Mwuahahaha!

CEDRIC: *stares in disbelief*

HARRY: Sorry.

CEDRIC: You… you saved my life!

HARRY: I did? Oh, right. I did. You're welcome.

CEDRIC: Thank you! You know, for a minute I thought you'd let it eat me, but then… you didn't.

HARRY: For a minute, so did I. And then my annoying protagonist instincts started to kick in.

Cedric and Harry look up to see they're right in front of the cup.

CEDRIC: You take it; you saved my life.

HARRY: Yeah, but – oh, okay.

Harry reaches out to take it when Cedric suddenly realized giving it to Harry might be a stupid move and grabs on at the same time, when they are both teleported to some graveyard.

CEDRIC: The cup was a portkey?

HARRY: Wait a minute… I've seen this place before. I had a dream about it.

WORMTAIL: *materializes from the shadows carrying the baby-like Voldemort* Hello, Poppet.

HARRY: Cedric, get back to the cup!

VOLDEMORT: _Avada Kedavra_!

Cedric falls back in a flash of green light, slowly dying, when at the last second Carlisle runs in and bites him. After a couple seconds Cedric jumps up, looking sexier than ever.

CEDRIC: What happened? Who are you?

CARLISLE: I'm Carlisle; vampire. And now you are too!

CEDRIC: Sweet! I'm C-

CARLISLE: No you're not. Your new name is Edward Cullen. Now come with me to Forks, where you shall fall in love with a klutzy mortal girl named Bella and star in the Twilight series!

CEDRIC/EDWARD: Yay!

Carlisle and Edward run off into the distance as Wormtail, Voldemort, and Harry stare in awe and horror.

HARRY: So that's how…

VOLDEMORT: None of this happened, okay?

HARRY: *nods* I don't remember a thing.

VOLDEMORT: Good. Now, Wormtail, do your thing.

Wormtail does some spell to push Harry against Tom Riddle Sr.'s grave, locked into place by a giant statue of some type of giant skeletal death angel thing… Actually, I think the skeleton WAS Tome Riddle Sr. Anyway, his wand drops to the ground when this happens, and Wormtail then does some type of ritual thing involving chopping off his arm, throwing Voldemort, his father's bone and it into some type of giant cauldron, and then stabbing Harry in the arm and dripping the blood into it as well, while chanting.

AUDIENCE: Well, this is rather… graphic.

EMILY: *nodding vigorously*

Finally the cauldron seems to magically disappear and in its place we see Voldemort come back to human form slowly, dramatically, and… I kind of want to say gracefully?

VOLDEMORT: Mwuahahahahahahaha *cough, cough* hahahahaha! Wormtail, hand me a mirror.

WORMTAIL: Yes, Master. *hands over a random mirror*

VOLDEMORT: *slowly lifting mirror* And now that I've been restored to my full power, I shall once and for all- *looks into the mirror* HOLY CRAP, WHAT HAPPENED TO MY NOSE? And… and my sexy… hair… *whimpers* WHY?

WORMTAIL: But, Master… You look so evil now?

VOLDEMORT: *pondering this observation* Hm… I suppose you're right about that, but still. Will it grow back? And plastic surgery… I never trusted that stuff. I mean, we all saw what it did to Michael Jackson! *looks again* God, apart from the bald part… I almost look like him. But, I suppose I'll just have to get used to it. I mean, it's better than before, but still… Wormtail, may I see your arm?

WORMTAIL: Oh, thank you, Master! *holds out his 'stump'*

VOLDEMORT: No, your other arm.

WORMTAIL: *a bit less excited* Oh… *holds out other arm*

Voldemort presses his wand against the Dark Mark on Wormtail's arm, and it forms in the sky, but this time gray rather than green. The Death Eaters all begin to shoot down from the sky and form a circle around Voldemort.

VOLDEMORT: Ah, my faithful Death Eaters! Not one of you can to assist me in my time of need. None of you! *pulls off their masks in turn* Crabbe! Goyle! Cinderella! And… who are you?

JULIA: Imma Death Eater too!

VOLDEMORT: Uh… no you're not.

JULIA: Yes I am.

VOLDEMORT: Prove it.

JULIA: *bites Voldemort's finger*

VOLDEMORT: *screaming in horror* Alright, alright! You're a Death Eater, dammit!

JULIA: *beams*

VOLDEMORT: Just… don't ever touch me again! *backs away cautiously* Anyway, what was I saying? Ah, yes. Not even you… Malfoy.

LUCIUS: But we did! You may not have noticed, but we tried. If you had let us know where you were, given us signs-

VOLDEMORT: Given you signs? What, did you want my secret hideout to look like flippin' Los Vegas with bright lights, strip clubs and casinos?

LUCIUS: Would I appear greedy if I said yes?

VOLDEMORT: *punches Lucius in the face*

AUDIENCE: *cheering*

VOLDEMORT: Shut up! You should all be ashamed of yourselves! Except for you, Wormtail. You were the only one who cared, even if you did act only out of fear.

Voldemort points his wand at Wormtail's missing arm and a new one forms.

WORMTAIL: Oh, thank you, Master! Wait a minute… it's black. Master, why is it black? The rest of me is white; it doesn't match.

VOLDEMORT: What, are you racist or something? Would you rather I gave you a female arm? Are you going to be sexist too?

WORMTAIL: N-No, Master!

VOLDEMORT: Good. Now, please remind me, Wormtail. Why did I call this meeting again? For the life of me, I can't remember.

WORMTAIL: Uh, you were gonna kill Harry Potter?

VOLDEMORT: *thinks* Oh, yes. That must've been it. *turns to Harry* I almost forgot you were here, lying against the bones of my father.

EMILY: I knew it!

AUDIENCE: Shut up.

VOLDEMORT: Oh, Harry… Harry, Harry, Harry. If it hadn't been for you, I would've been a country star by now! And how I longed to be a country star… But it's too late now! Having been thrust out of my human body for thirteen years, I must've gotten out of practice with my guitar. Countless hours I'll never get back! Besides, I'm sure my band has abandoned me anyway. I couldn't convince them to become Death Eaters, so they probably broke up years ago, when I left. You see how you've ruined my life, Harry? Why I must kill you now?

HARRY: Well, that hardly seems like a good reason to-

VOLDEMORT: Silence! I'm not done talking. I have the talking wand, and that means you need to be quiet.

HARRY: Sir! Yes, Sir!

VOLDEMORT: I said SILENCE! But anyway, where was I? Aw, damn it! Foolish boy, you've made me lose my train of thought. I was just about to say, uh… Oh, yes. It was I who ordered the pizza and charged your name to it during the summer!

HARRY: I knew it! I can't wait until Hermione hears this.

VOLDEMORT: Hermione? Oh, right. Your curly-haired friend. I never liked the girl; had it not been for her, in your first year I would've never gotten separated from Quirrell, although that may've been a good thing. I never really liked him. Of course I wouldn't have gotten the Sorcerer's Stone either, but still. And then, the year after that! She had to give you the paper that lead right to me, only so you could stop my basilisk, save the redhead, and then destroy my younger and slightly sexier self! God, you're a bastard. Do you know what expenses I'll have to cover because of you?

HARRY: Wait a minute… How did you know about all that?

VOLDEMORT: I read the script, dumbass. It would really help if you did too. No, wait – I forgot. You can't read! Haha, in your face, Potter!

HARRY: *turning red* I can too!

VOLDEMORT: Potter can't read! Na-na-na-na-na-na!

HARRY: I'll teach you a lesson!

VOLDEMORT: Me? Hah. Yeah, just like you did when you were a… *sniffle* mere baby… *awkward pause* Alright, I've gotta stop thinking about that horrible incident.

HARRY: You killed my parents!

VOLDEMORT: Did I really? Well, I've gotta say, they really did have it coming.

HARRY: Take that back!

VOLDEMORT: Never!

HARRY: Oh yeah? Then try saying it to my face!

VOLDEMORT: *pauses* I just… did.

HARRY: Oh.

LUCIUS: *whispers to Cinderella* Ooh, this is getting intense!

HARRY: Well, let me down and I'll-

VOLDEMORT: Okay, okay! Take a chill pill, will ya? I was just getting to that.

The statue releases Harry, and he falls to the ground.

VOLDEMORT: Now, Harry, I shall challenge you to a duel! Surely you know how?

HARRY: Of course I do!

VOLDEMORT: Good. *bows* Now you bow back, Harry. Dumbledore wouldn't want you to forget your manners. I said bow!

Voldemort uses the Imperious Curse to make Harry bow.

VOLDEMORT: Very good, Harry. Now, and the count of three: one… two… five! _Crucio!_

HARRY: *falls over in pain* Damn it, what IS it with you people? Nobody can count around here!

VOLDEMORT: What did you just say about my mother, Harry?

HARRY: Your mother? I didn't-

VOLDEMORT: _Crucio! Crucio Crucio Crucio!_

HARRY: *writhing in agony*  
VOLDEMORT: Yay! I win!

WORMTAIL: Hey, aren't you going to actually kill him?

VOLDEMORT: Oh yeah. _Avada Kedavra!_

HARRY: _Sectumsemtra!_

AUDIENCE: He doesn't know about that one yet…

EMILY: Too bad. He figured it out on his own.

AUDIENCE: …Right.

The two spells – Voldemort's and Harry's – connect and make a pretty fireworks show! For a brief minute Harry sees his parents.

LILY: Oh, Harry! We're so proud of you.

HARRY: Mom! You're embarrassing me!

JAMES: Go kick some baldy ass, son!

VOLDEMORT: Hey, I heard that!

The second Harry lets go, his parents disappear and he sprints to the Triwizard Cup, teleporting back in front of the maze.

HARRY: Damn, that was weird.

DUMBY: Yay, Harry! You won!

HARRY: Uh, Sir…

DUMBY: Yesh?

HARRY: Cedric. He grabbed the cup with me, but it teleported us to this graveyard. And then, Voldemort tried to kill him, but this… this vampire guy ran in and bit him! And then they ran off together.

DUMBY: Voldemort, you said?  
HARRY: Yes! He's back, and as evil as ever. He said I couldn't read!

DUMBY: He did not!

HARRY: Yes, he did! Which is hardly fair, because as far as I'm concerned, he can't count!

DUMBY: Are you sure?

HARRY: Sure? Of course I'm sure. He said 'one, two, five'.

DUMBY: No, I mean are you sure he's back?  
HARRY: Do I look sure?

DUMBY: Yes, I suppose so. So what do you want me to say about Cedric?  
HARRY: *shrugs* Just say he died. I mean, technically he would have… and plus, he is undead now.

DUMBY: Alright, then. Harry, I want you to fake cry.

HARRY: How do I-

EMILY: *punches Harry*

HARRY: *crying*  
EMILY: Welcome!

The crowd erupts into a panic, wondering what happened.

AMOS: What's going on? Is my son alright?

DUMBY: Cedric, he… Voldemort killed him.

AMOS: What? Noooooooooooooooooooooooo!

A bunch of screaming, crying, wailing… what a bore. Anyway, so Moody takes Harry with him to his office.

MOODY: It's alright. I know what it's like to lose someone.

HARRY: *drying his eyes* No, it's not that… The director punched me. Cedric's a vampire; he's fine.

MOODY: Oh. Well, I didn't see that coming. So, how was it?

HARRY: How was what?

MOODY: The Dark Lord! Was he terrifying? I bet he was, being in that graveyard all alone with him.

HARRY: Well, actually, Wormtail was there too. And a ton of his Death Eaters, but probably not all of them. And I don't think I said anything about a graveyard?

MOODY: You didn't? Well, it must be that telepathy thing. Still getting the hang of it, haha!

HARRY: Right… telepathy… Anyway. So I won the Triwizard Tournament, right? Awesome! Yay me!

MOODY: *shakes head* Harry. You are an idiot.

HARRY: So I've been told. What did I do this time?

MOODY: It was I who-

HARRY: Actually, Voldemort already admitted to ordering the pizza, so that's okay.

MOODY: No, I… *sighs* God, you're stupid. I put your name in the Goblet of Fire!

HARRY: *gasp* Like, seriously?

MOODY: Yes! And I told Hagrid about the dragons, knowing he'd tell you!

HARRY: No way!

MOODY: Yes! It was I who had told Cedric about the egg, and given Neville the gillyweed for you!

HARRY: Holy crap!

MOODY: Yes! And I made the Cup a portkey, and gave you the path to follow right to it! But now, the deed is done. And you know why?  
HARRY: Why?

MOODY: Because he's back! The Dark Lord has truly returned.

HARRY: Well, shit. Why?  
MOODY: Because I'm evil, silly. And I'm not really Mad-Eye Moody.

HARRY: Wait… you're not?

MOODY: You, sir, are a twit!

HARRY: Sorry, I've heard that one already. Your insults will have to be much more original than that.

Just then Dumbledore, Snape, Karkaroff, Maxime, and several other staff members burst in through the door and tackle Moody.

SNAPE: *pours some of the mysterious black fluid we saw earlier into Moody's mouth*

AUDIENCE: Now, that doesn't look right at all.

DUMBY: Are you Alastar Moody?

MOODY: Pfft, no.

DUMBY: Then who are you? Who?

The Pollyjuice Potion's effects appear to have worn off, as Moody slowly transfigures back into Barty Crouch Jr.

HARRY: And I should've known, with all the foreshadowing!

SNAPE: Shut up, Potter. I still haven't forgiven you.

Harry stares in horror, remembering what he did to Snape, and then runs out of the room.

BARTY: Grr! And I would've gotten away with it, too, if it hadn't been for you meddling old people and your damn student!

In the Great Hall

DUMBY: I know it is a sad day for us all. Together, as family, we grieve for the loss of Cedric Diggory. Except for the Slytherins, of course, who could probably care less.

SLYTHERINS: Hmph.

DUMBY: He was a great student. Smart, kind, brave… and amazingly sexy, a quality you hardly find in the good guys of the wizarding world. And the Ministry doesn't want me to tell you this, but I feel you all have the right to know how he died: he was murdered. By Voldemort.

EVERYONE: *gasps*

HARRY: *raises his hand* Are you gonna announce me winning the Triwizard Tournament soon?

HERMIONE: Harry, would you shut up and at least pretend you care?

RON: Yeah, I thought you liked Cedric?  
HARRY: I did, but he's not dead. He's just a vampire.

Everyone in the room gasps again; a couple students faint.

DUMBY: Harry, we weren't going to bring that up!

HARRY: Sorry, Sir! I didn't realize I was talking so loud.

DRACO: Wait, so Voldemort's a vampire? And he bit Cedric?  
DUMBY: *sigh* No. He almost killed him, and then some random vampire showed up and bit him. I know; it really doesn't make much sense, does it?

RON: Wait, did he change his name to Edward?  
HARRY: Actually… I think he did.  
RON: Hahaha! When you losers all shunned me for it, but now… I was right! Twilight lives!

STUDENTS: *awkward silence*  
RON: Hey, don't pretend you don't know at all what I'm talking about! I'm not crazy! You just wait; the fan girls! Oh, they'll start coming. At first maybe one or two, then ten, and pretty soon they'll all be marching in like an army! Kill as many as you like, but they'll keep coming… there's no stopping them. I tell you, it's true!

JULIA: *jumps under the table in terror* I've got my stake!

HARRY: *rolls eyes*

HERMIONE: Uh, Ron… I think you had little too much caffeine this morning.

RON: No! It's the truth!

Hermione drags Ron out of the room, which sits in absolute silence.

NEVILLE: Will he be alright?

HARRY: Yeah. I think he's just in shock.

DUMBY: So… Who wants dinner?

The next morning (or some other morning, it doesn't really matter) in the Gryffindor Common Room

DUMBY: Ah! Hello, Harry.

HARRY: Sir! You're allowed in here?  
DUMBY: I'm the headmaster; I should hope so. *looks up at the bed curtains* I never liked these; set them on fire in my fourth year. By accident, of course. Now. Is there anything you'd like to tell me, Harry?  
HARRY: Who do you think you are, my father?  
DUMBY: *raises an eyebrow*  
HARRY: Well, yes… Uh, that night. When Voldemort attacked me, our wands connected for a moment. Do you know why?

DUMBY: No idea. But let me just make a good guess: you saw your parents?  
HARRY: Yes! How did you…?

DUMBY: Well, I figured that sounded like a very symbolic thing to happen. But you know they can't really come back, right? No spell can reawaken the dead.

HARRY: *sigh* I know. Wait, why did you come here, again?  
DUMBY: To pump you for information, of course! Snape believes children ought to be kept in cages underground and only used for educational purposes.

HARRY: What's that supposed to mean?  
DUMBY: *shrugs* I dunno; Snape says the weirdest things sometimes, but they sound intelligent and that's what matters, right?

It's the end of the year, and the guest schools are both leaving as Hogwarts students get ready to head towards the train.

HERMIONE: So. Everything is going to change now, isn't it?

RON: Does the word 'duh' mean anything to you, Hermione?

HERMIONE: Oh, you're one to talk!

HARRY: Of course not. There's still us; and the director. Life should be just as dangerous, action-filled, and as awkward as ever.

HERMIONE: *laughs* I suppose so. You two will write, won't you?  
RON: I won't; you know I won't.

HERMIONE: *pouts* But you will! Right, Harry?  
HARRY: Of course. Well, so long as a certain pokemon doesn't interfere with my mail over the summer.

We zoom out to let the cheesy happy ending factor sink in, then the camera turns to a random tower with Snape looking out the window.

SNAPE: Next year, Potter. Next year!

EMILY: Aww, it's alright, Sevvy. I'm sure you'll get your revenge. *pats him on the back*

SNAPE: *spins around* Hey, what are you still doing here?

DUMBY: I invited her and her friend to our End of Year Teachers' Party. I hope that's alright?  
EMILY: *elbows Liza* Yep! Just wait till next year, Liza – we'll practically be staff members by then!

LIZA: Yay!

EMILY: You ready?  
LIZA: Yup.

EMILY AND LIZA: The End!

JULIA: The end!

EMILY: No, stupid-o! I have to have the last line! The end!

JULIA: Why?

EMILY: Because. The end!

JULIA: But-

EMILY: The end!

JULIA: I-

EMILY: *smacks Julia* The end!

JULIA: Ow…

EMILY: The end!

LIZA: But you said we would both-

EMILY: Shut up. The end, no questions!


End file.
